Not Quite a Ghost Story
by Audrey Lynne
Summary: Ghosts in the graveyard?  For Cyrus Spengler, Egon's uncle, no.  But Halloween does give him a chance to do a bit of speculating on the supernatural.


_**Not Quite a Ghost Story**_

_by Audrey Lynne_

It was Halloween, the night the spirits came out, at least at was how the legend went. The costumes of devils and vampires and such were intended to scare the nastier spirits away with something even more menacing than themselves, and so a tradition had begun. In modern times, Halloween was primarily considered a children's holiday, at least among those who didn't believe in ghosts and the like-or those who didn't want to believe.

Cyrus Spengler had been in the category of "non-believer" for most of his life. Ghosts didn't follow the laws of science, and the laws of science ruled Cyrus' world, as they always had his brother's. Edward hadn't believed in ghosts, either, and it had caused no small amount of friction between him and his son-who not only believed in ghosts, but maintained that they _were_ scientific, only under a different set of laws. Edward had been proud of Egon's tenacity, Cyrus knew, and Egon's refusal to back down on his theories, but father and son had never seen eye-to-eye on the matter. Perhaps they might have, one day, except Edward had died of an unexpected stroke before the two could resolve their differences.

Ten years. It had been ten years since Edward's death. Cyrus missed his older brother fiercely, still, though time had softened the pain somewhat. For all the Spengler males had been trained to control their emotions, they did feel-and often deeply. They simply had to find other ways of showing it, such as burying themselves in their work.

Cyrus had found that the easiest way to deal with the pain of losing his brother was to throw himself completely into science and the restructuring of Spengler Labs that Edward's death had necessitated, since Egon wanted to return to New York instead of staying in Cleveland and taking control of the lab's physics division. Losing himself in the lab might have been easier for Cyrus, but it had cost him his marriage. His Evelyn had done what she could, but after three years, she tearfully informed him that she felt almost as much a widow as Edward's wife Kate was. Evelyn had gone on, saying that she never saw him anymore, and even when she did, he wasn't "really there." Cyrus had no rebuttal; she was right, and they had come to the mutual-if painful-decision that, even after their twenty-eight years of marriage, it was best to go their separate ways. They'd remained amicable, fortunately, but it still hadn't been easy.

Evelyn had been correct, however, when she'd sadly told Cyrus that he wasn't the man she'd married anymore. He wasn't-and he knew it. Edward had always led the way, been the one to take charge, while Cyrus had been content to follow him. They had been equals, true, but Edward had the experience, being nine years older, and had provided Cyrus with guidance...guidance that Cyrus found himself sorely missing once it was gone. Cyrus had tried to imitate his brother's style, taking a more serious approach to everything, distancing himself even more so emotionally, artificially forcing himself to take on the attributes that had come to Edward naturally.

Cyrus had never believed in ghosts before that, but he definitely wouldn't have after, not until he saw proof. And so it had been something of an embarrassment to Cyrus' pride when his nephew teamed up with three friends to become Ghostbusters, prancing around New York City and the surrounding locales in colorful jumpsuits, claiming to be chasing ghosts. Cyrus was sure Egon was after _something_-after all, as much as Venkman might have been a smooth-talker, Egon did have his principles and he was not inclined to involve himself in wild goose chases. However, Cyrus also knew he had to get Egon out of that situation before he became a complete laughingstock in the scientific community-and Cyrus had an ace in the hole. He wanted to revive Spengler Labs' physics division, but he was a biochemist...and his daughter Cyrel, who helped him run the labs, was a geneticist. Cyrel's twin, Chaya, was a neurologist and not at all interested in lab work, and Cyrus' son, Cedrick, was busy studying chemistry at the local university. Cyrus could have hired a physicist, but he cherished the idea of keeping control within the family-and who better to continue the work Edward had started than his own son? Egon had promised to return to Ohio and work for the labs if his uncle needed him; all Cyrus had to do was go to New York to see Egon and plead his case.

In theory, the plan was perfect. Where it failed was in its execution. Cyrus hadn't anticipated the exceptionally strong ties Egon had to his friends and the lengths they would go to in order to keep him with them. He also had jumped the gun somewhat; in his eagerness to get Egon out of what Cyrus had felt was sure to be a career-destroying situation, he had neglected to ensure Spengler Labs was ready to revitalize the physics department. They didn't have a full budget yet, or most of the equipment needed, and Egon had unfortunately been relegated to feeding the biology department's lab rats until his friends had shown up to "rescue" him. Then, through a series of unlikely and almost unbelievable events, Cyrus had gotten a genuine up-close and personal sample of what Egon really did for a living. It was difficult for even a die-hard scientist like Cyrus to continue to claim he didn't believe in ghosts when he'd been chased by a hundred-foot tall marshmallow man-and, even better, he'd had the opportunity to see Egon's genius in action, with the plans Egon devised to handle everything that happened. How could Cyrus have done anything else but release Egon from his so-called obligations to the family labs? Clearly, Egon enjoyed his work, and the world needed a scientist who was an expert in the unique physics that ghosts followed, ectoplasmic physics. Hell, Egon had effectively pioneered the field.

It had been a little less than five years since all of that had happened, and while Cyrus had no desire to ever meet another ghost again, he could accept their existence. Before that, Cyrus would have written off those who hoped to talk to the spirits on Halloween as superstitious at best, but more likely to be sadly deluded. He'd become one of them. Cyrus didn't think Edward was a ghost, and didn't want him to be, as by Egon's theory, that would have meant Edward had somehow been unable to move on. The earth-bound spirits were not the only ones allowed to contact the living world, however, and while Cyrus wasn't ready to conduct an actual conversation with his brother, he did wonder if he could perhaps feel Edward's spirit, coming to him from whatever place he was, to offer a bit of guidance. He would never admit to such curiosity to anyone else, but it existed within him nevertheless. Cyrus had never realized how much he relied on his brother's support until it was gone.

Thus, Cyrus had found himself in the most unlikely of places after dark on Halloween night, with the rational part of his mind loudly insisting that there were far safer places for him to be. He would have happily been in any one of those other places, but a process of elimination combined with some scientific investigation, aided by Egon's past research, had led Cyrus to conclude that, as much as he disliked the idea, a cemetery was the best place to be-and one in particular at that. He still wondered what the hell he was doing, how one stray idea could cause him to betray a lifetime of training, but the facts of the matter remained: Cyrus was there, and voluntarily at that, hoping to make contact with the spirit world. The very thought still felt ridiculous to him, despite the hopes he privately held. "Perhaps I should just hold a bloody séance instead," he muttered; it would have been about as scientific as his current plan-which was to say, not at all. It occurred to Cyrus that his daughters would have been quick to join him if he _had_ proposed a séance; while Cyrel and Chaya hadn't chosen to devote their lives to it, the girls shared their cousin's keen interest in the supernatural. He wouldn't have been surprised to learn that they'd been involved in a séance before, though he knew they were far too intelligent to enter into one being held by one of the country's many scam artists. They'd have made sure the host was legitimate in order to give them the best chance to make contact with the other side and whatever might have been lurking there, which was a scary thought. He'd have to talk to Cyrel and Chaya later.

A chilly breeze blew across the exposed skin on the back of Cyrus' neck, but that wasn't anything strange; it was late October in Cleveland. Most of the trick-or-treaters were wearing coats beneath their costumes. Cyrus hardly could have called that a sign. He wasn't even sure what he _could_ consider a sign; even Egon was quick to admit that most ghost lore was as much the stuff of myth and legend as it was based on real happenings. There were only a handful of things he was sure of-he was cold, he was standing in front of his brother's grave in the dark, and the gates to the cemetery probably shouldn't have been open in the first place. Cyrus wouldn't have snuck in, but the open gates had been an invitation, despite the sign despite them that proclaimed the cemetery closed at dusk. The gates had no doubt been opened by some Halloween prankster, and if Cyrus wasn't careful, he'd have to sneak _out_ after the groundskeeper came by to shut them again.

_This__is__futile,_Cyrus thought as he let out a sigh and realized that it was cold enough for him to see his breath. He fully understood the science behind it, but at the moment, it only meant one thing to him-it was too cold to be standing in the cemetery, waiting for something that might never happen. Though he wasn't giving up on his hopes entirely, Cyrus couldn't come up with any reasons that he could use to convince himself to stay any longer. He pulled his coat tighter around him and headed back out to the main road. As he walked back down the street, toward the small laundromat where he'd parked his car, he wondered what Edward would have thought of his actions. Unless he'd been locked away in some obscure part of the afterlife, Edward would know of the existence of the very beings he and his brother, along with most of the family, had dismissed as fantasy. What did he think of this discovery? How did he feel about his son's work now? They were interesting questions-and if Cyrus was going to ponder them, there was one woman it was undoubtedly best to ponder them with.

Watching carefully for small children who might have been darting about, Cyrus pulled his car into the driveway of the home he'd grown up in, which his brother had inherited upon their father's death. Their uncle had been a widower with no children, and so Cyrus had been left his home, only blocks away, which was no less impressive, but the old family home still held a lot of treasured memories for Cyrus, both from his childhood and his adult years. He smiled at the Halloween decorations that lined the driveway, his sister-in-law's doing. She'd decorated for all the holidays, but since Egon had gone into the ghost business, she'd really embraced Halloween. It didn't surprise Cyrus. Kate had always wholeheartedly supported whatever project Egon applied himself to. He walked up the short footpath to the front porch of the Victorian-style home and knocked lightly, presuming Kate would be near the door in order to answer it for the children.

Within a few seconds, the door opened and Cyrus was greeted by a smiling blonde wraith-somewhat literally, as Kate was wearing a flowing white gown. "Oh-Cy! How are you? For heaven's sake, come in; it's cold out there. We're definitely feeling the lake effect tonight." She ushered him into the house and closed the door behind him. "What brings you by?" She must have noticed his assessment of her costume, because she quickly explained, "The children get a kick out of it-and before you ask, my niece Libby borrowed the costume from a friend. I'm not sure what it's supposed to be, other than something out of the Renaissance era, but it's a lovely dress." She waved a hand at the staircase. "There aren't many children left out; I'll give it another half-hour. You can go on upstairs and check the party out if you like."

"You're having a party?" Cyrus asked, surprised. Kate Spengler did nothing in half-measures and her parties were no exception to the rule.

"An impromptu one, really," Kate said. "Cyrel and Chaya dropped by, then Libby came by with the dress and decided to stay a bit, so they've all been having a grand time up there ever since. Nothing's exploded anyway, which I should consider fortunate, what with the Unholy Trio reunited again..."

Cyrus wasn't surprised by his daughters' presence; they often spent Halloween evenings with their aunt, but the Unholy Trio, as Kate affectionately called them, included Egon. He was only a few months younger than the twins, and the three had found all sorts of trouble growing up-and even more once they _were_ grown up and had the means to be even more creative. But for Kate to have made the reference must have meant Egon was there. When had he gotten in? And how? Halloween was undoubtedly a busy time of year in his business.

Driven by curiosity, Cyrus headed upstairs, hearing strains of the "Monster Mash" song coming from down the hall. He followed the sound to one of the spare rooms, which Kate had furnished but never done much else with, and ventured a look inside. Egon was there, all right, flanked on either side by one of the twins, who were both singing along with the song and cackling at the mad science references. Egon didn't sing, but looked amused nonetheless. Libby was across the room, decorating the lap of Peter Venkman; whatever relationship they might have had wasn't something Cyrus dared consider much beyond that. Ray Stantz and Winston Zeddemore were along for the ride as well, perched on the arms of the couch, obviously enjoying themselves along with everyone else.

Once the song ended, Ray laughed and held up the glass in his hand; by the shade of its red tint, Cyrus guessed it to be fruit punch of some kind. "Here's to the slowest six months we've ever had..."

"Yeah, we're broke and we don't care!" Peter contributed. He frowned as he apparently reconsidered. "Okay, we do care. But even if we gotta get real jobs, it could be worse. We could've been spending Halloween covered in slime like usual-or worse yet, in New Jersey!"

Winston swatted him. "Hey, I grew up in Jersey."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Peter retorted cheerfully.

Chaya glanced over in the direction of the doorway and waved. "Daddy! Hi, come on in. Egon and his friends came in just this afternoon; Cyrie and I were going to show them around town tomorrow."

"The paranormal activity in the New York area-which is where most of our jobs naturally come from-has dried up lately," Egon explained, as though he felt the need to justify their not being insanely busy on Halloween night. "I don't know why and I can only hope that it's not the calm before the storm, when something very powerful opens a gate into our world. In the meantime, we have a lot of spare time on our hands and we decided a brief trip out of town was in order. It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you as well," Cyrus replied. "And your...friends." He normally wouldn't have trailed off like that, but there was something about the way Libby was eyeing Peter that had distracted him. The fairy costume she was wearing didn't help put his mind at ease. He would have asked questions, but he wasn't sure he wanted the answers.

Fortunately, Cyrel changed the subject-and the mood along with it-when she turned to Egon with a devil-may-care glint in her eyes. Cyrus had never trusted that look; it usually meant she was up to something, such as the time she had proposed they use the dimensional portal Egon had invented to go back in time and learn who broke the Sphinx's nose. If that plan failed, her backup idea was to go back further and do it herself, so she'd know. Whether she was joking or serious, Cyrus had never been sure. While Cyrel was indeed a brilliant geneticist, she had engineered many a wild scheme before, usually with the help of her sister and her cousin. There was a reason Kate had begun calling them the Unholy Trio when they were eight. "Hey, Egon, think we should resume the MaiTai project?"

Egon looked confused. "I wasn't aware you'd ever stopped working on it."

Cyrel leveled a look at him, one that said everything. She wanted to pull something over on someone and she wanted his cooperation. "No, remember, it was discontinued. Code-name: MaiTai. I still need a suitable subject."

Cyrus didn't dare ask what she was up to, but he did want to wait around and see what it might be. For as devious as the twins could be sometimes, especially Cyrel, the results were often quite amusing, though he couldn't actually say so. It would only encourage them. He did, however, notice her eyeing Peter, and was willing to help out. It was true that Peter had only been acting out of friendship and the future of the Ghostbusting business when he and the rest of the team had shown up in Cleveland to spirit Egon back "home," and Cyrus couldn't fault their reasons, once he'd seen proof of what they were actually doing. He still didn't see, however, why they couldn't relocate the whole business to Cleveland to allow Egon to still work for Spengler Labs-in a position where he'd supervise far more than the feeding schedule of rats. If Cyrel had targeted Peter as her newest pigeon, Cyrus wouldn't stand in her way; it was creative revenge-and harmless, too. Egon wouldn't allow anything that would actually hurt his friend, and neither of the twins ever acted out of malice. And, so, it was with perfectly feigned interest that Cyrus asked, "Oh, yes, dear, isn't that the one the man from the government was investigating?" He neglected to mention that MaiTai was Cyrel's Himalayan cat, Cyrel had been working on a project of several years intended to one day clone the cat, and the "government" man was from an ethics committee, ensuring that no human genes had entered the arena. Peter didn't need to know any of that.

Peter must have begun to sense Cyrel's-and Egon's-scrutiny, because he began to squirm, displacing Libby, who quickly resettled herself beside him. "Egon, you'll save me from your crazy cousins, won't you?"

"I can't control them," Egon informed him. "I'm afraid you're on your own. It won't hurt...much."

"I...see." Peter nodded to Libby, then the door. "I say we get while the getting's good."

Libby laughed. "Sure." She whispered something to him, he grinned, and they both stood and moved past Cyrus to the door. Peter offered a friendly wave of goodbye as he went by.

"You can run, but you can't hide!" Cyrel called after them, while Egon threw a dark glance in the general direction in which they'd left. Apparently, he suspected they were up to more than just simple escape, which might have been true-or it might have been a case of turnabout being fair play. Cyrus didn't know and he was much happier for it.

Once Peter was safely out of earshot, the twins burst into laughter. Cyrus shook his head, entering the room. _One__of__these__days,_ he told himself, _I'm__going__to__have__to__teach__those__girls__that__men__are__not__playthings-after__they__finish__playing__with__Venkman,__of__course._

Chaya hopped up to change the tape in the cassette player, while Egon had finally grown suspicious enough of Peter and Libby's timely exit to follow them out. Cyrus borrowed the seat he'd been occupying, between his daughters, and smiled at Kate as she came in to join them. Later, he could solve the mystery of whether or not he would ever be able to come in contact with his late brother from the earthly plane. He might even discuss the matter with Egon, though theoretically, and with the omission of a few key details, like who specifically Cyrus wanted to contact.

In the meantime, Cyrus was content with acceptance into the group, with no lingering malice, it seemed, over his having convinced Egon to return to the Midwest, and the mystery at large being how long Cyrel could milk her MaiTai project as being something potentially sinister. Peter was smart but superstitious, and Cyrel was smarter and more persistent. Things could be interesting, or entertaining at the very least. There was all eternity to ponder the spirit world, even if Cyrus didn't get around to doing it in his lifetime. But if the events surrounding his divorce had taught him anything, it was that there was only one "now," and one had better live in it if they wanted to truly experience life. Live for the moment, leave nothing to chance-that was something Cyrus hadn't done even before Edward's death. Perhaps his brother _was_ offering guidance from beyond the grave, only so subtly, Cyrus missed it. Edward would have been subtle about such a thing. Cyrus shook his head slowly, tossing out a silent thanks to the world beyond.

It was, of course, a complete coincidence that immediately afterward, a book fell off the shelf.


End file.
